


the rape of persephone

by awfuloffal



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions
Genre: Accidental Incest, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Naked Female Clothed Male, Overstimulation, Parent/Child Incest, Rape/Non-con Elements, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Sacrilege
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:56:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29750985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awfuloffal/pseuds/awfuloffal
Summary: “This is rather out of character for you.” Dawn muses, seeming unaffected by Cyrus lifting her up onto his desk. “A crime of passion?”“This is not out of passion.” Cyrus says stoically, unbuttoning her long jacket one by one. “Nor is it a crime. This is the oldest act of torture and humiliation known to mankind. Your refusal to step down and let me be leaves me next to no choice but to resort to such drastic measures.”
Relationships: Akagi | Cyrus/Hikari | Dawn
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	the rape of persephone

“This is rather out of character for you.” Dawn muses, seeming unaffected by Cyrus lifting her up onto his desk. “A crime of passion?”

“This is not out of passion.” Cyrus says stoically, unbuttoning her long jacket one by one. “Nor is it a crime. This is the oldest act of torture and humiliation known to mankind. Your refusal to step down and let me be leaves me next to no choice but to resort to such drastic measures.”

The girl had gotten in his way too many times. Every encounter had left him stewing in dark, horrid,  _ emotion _ . Emotion that he couldn’t name, that drove him to desires he spent his whole life trying to deny. When he had finally caught her in his headquarters, on her last leg but still with that smug determination in her eyes, he decided that giving in just once would sate these unsavory urges.

“I did not expect this from you of all people.” Dawn muses, ignoring the older man's wandering hands as her heavy coat falls in a heap around her. “One of your lackeys, maybe. Mars always seemed particularly excitable.”

“Perhaps I will make an order.” Cyrus leans in closer to the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. She smells of honey and freshly fallen snow and it sets Cyrus’s nerves alight. “Anyone who can best you in battle has free reign to your body. That should improve their performance somewhat.”

Dawn only laughs. “I’d appreciate an actual challenge from your goons for once.”

“I’ll be sure to give you one myself then.”

“You’re a dirty old man, Cyrus.” Dawn shakes her head in disapproval.

“And you are a stupid little girl.” Cyrus slides his large hands up the sides of her shirt, resting lightly on her thin hips. “Is that any way to refer to your God?”

Dawn scoffs. “By his name?” 

“You would fare better to address your superiors with respect.” Cyrus remarks, digging his thumbs into her birdlike hip bones. “Perhaps you would not find yourself in such dire situations if you learned your place.”

Dawn shifts under his touch but is unable to escape, pinned down like an insect under a microscope. “You would have me as one of your worshippers then?”

“I don’t see why not. There will be room for all in my new world. Once I cure you of that _spirit_ of course. ” Cyrus pulls away from her neck, looking her over with a raised brow. Her face is already flushed but she meets his gaze steadily.

“How kind of you, my lord.”

A muscle in Cyrus’s jaw tenses, the only tell of how affected he truly was at her words- sarcastic as they were.

His hands make quick work of her shirt, lifting it up her chest. “Raise your arms.”

Dawn gives a single laugh. “My rapist is a polite one. Why not just rip it off me?”

“Needless. Though I suppose that would add to the humiliation aspect.” He muses. 

“Oh, don’t bother then. I am thoroughly mortified.” She obliges him, raising her hands up over her head for Cyrus to strip her. She wears a simple white bra with a delicate bow between her breasts.

“You don’t seem to be grasping the reality of this situation.” Cyrus reaches around her chest to unclasp her bra, pulling the soft cups down to expose her young breasts. 

“Oh, I do.” Dawn shivers slightly at the air on her exposed chest, soft pink nipples hardening at the chill. “I have no choice in the matter, isn’t that the point?”

Cyrus palms at her small breasts, ignoring the satisfaction he feels at her small jump in surprise. He swallows until his throat clicks as he rubs his thumbs over her hard nipples, adoring the way her breath quickens at his touch. “Rules do not apply to me.” He reminds himself. 

“You see yourself as a god. The rape of a divine maiden would certainly add to your threat in your new world.”

“You will be anything but divine when I am done with you.”

“What will my role be in your lore I wonder.” Dawn raises an eyebrow, breath quickening as Cyrus plays with her sensitive chest. “A silly little girl who got herself into too much trouble? An opponent of the crown stripped of her pride? ...Could you at least take the form of a swan?”

The corner of Cyrus’s lip twitches in what might have been a smile. “Even the victims have their own pity-tales. I’ll make sure that everyone in my new world knows the story of the failed savior of Sinnoh.”

“If you win.”

“ _ When  _ I win.” She merely tuts at him, blush growing as she tries to turn away, evading his grasp. She’s not playing along. He pinches her nipple rather harshly, relishing in her pained gasp. “This is a punishment. There’s no escaping me now.”

“My apologies, but I seem to be overcome with free will.” The horrid girl purrs at him. Cyrus feels his jaw clench and his cock twitch.

“Your body certainly seems more interested than your spirit is.” Cyrus muses. He rolls her nipple teasingly between his fingers, watching in purely scientific interest at her responses. Her breasts were small but sensitive and able to be covered completely by his much larger hands. Cyrus has the obscene desire to taste her, but decades of self control kept him in check.

But no one was around. He was already giving into his base instincts, why deny himself this? 

“I am the victim in this situation, my responses are completely-  _ ah _ \- out of my hands.” Dawn’s breath catches as Cyrus lowers his mouth to her chest, sucking at one hard nipple while playing with the other. “No- Cyrus-“

The sound of his name spilling from her lips urges it on, biting down on her sensitive flesh to force out more of those delicious noises. “Watch your language.”

“ _ My lord _ .” Dawn moans out. She’s rolling her hips weakly against the hard wood of his desk, probably unconsciously. Desperate for touch, even a forced one.

_ She’s perfect. _

_ I could keep her. _

He’s hard in his trousers and she certainly knows, pressing into her soft baby-fat thighs. Cyrus takes a hand off of her chest and travels down to her body, spreading her legs to give him room between them. He presses the outline of his cock between her legs underneath her skirt and isn’t quite surprised to feel how wet she is. “Look at you.” His voice is dripping in sarcastic adoration. “You’re going to make a mess of my uniform.”

“Good thing you stand behind a podium during your speeches.” Dawn bats her eyelids at him. Spreading her legs wide enough to fully fit Cyrus’s wide stance between them is clearly uncomfortable but she refuses to let it show on her face, a trait Cyrus admires. “Oh, that’s an idea now, isn’t it?”

It is rather enticing, Cyrus had to agree. The failed heroine, warming his cock as he spreads his word to his devoted followers.

But it was her idea so he can’t even use it as a threat. Damn.

His hand dips between her legs, finding her drenched panties with ease. Her clit is swollen, untouched and Cyrus teases her with his thumb, tracing slow circles through the fabric. “Do you get this aroused every time someone threatens you with violence?”

“I’d hardly call this violent.” Dawn rests clenched fists on his chest, steadying her breathing as he toys with her. “This is almost romantic.” 

“You have a skewed perception of romance.” Cyrus tugs her panties off to the side of her wet cunt and slowly circles his fingers around her entrance. She’s sensitive down here too, already shaking like a leaf before Cyrus had even started. 

“I don’t have much to compare it to.” Dawn bites her lip, letting out the smallest sounds of pleasure against her will. “I haven’t even been kissed yet.”

The smallest crease forms between his eyebrows. “... I hope you are not asking me to kiss you.”

Dawn purses her lips in disappointment. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous now, a maiden's first kiss is more valuable than her virtue.”

He hates this girl. This unknowable, unpredictable creature sent to defy him. “You tease me. A defense mechanism? Reverse psychology perhaps?”

“You’re about to steal away my virginity, but a kiss is too much for you to handle? Do you truly detest emotion that much?” Dawn asks with humor in her voice. Cyrus wonders just how much of it is for show. 

“You misunderstand. What I'm doing to you has nothing to do with sexual desire, or your supposed ‘romance’.” Cyrus lies effortlessly. “This is about power.”

“I don’t buy that for a second.” Dawn taunts him, forgetting for a moment she was his enemy and shamelessly leans into his touch. “If that was true you’d have one of your commanders punishing me. A  _ true  _ god wouldn’t needlessly show such weakness to his enemy.”

“I disagree.” Cyrus finally sinks two fingers deep inside her cunt and Dawn gasps, arching against him. “Some of the cruelest leaders throughout history made their mark by raping and pillaging all who dared to get in their way.”

“What are you them, a god or a warlord?” Dawn says thickly, trying to keep her calm as Cyrus slowly takes her apart. His fingers seek out her most sensitive spots, gauging his progress by the sounds Dawn makes. 

“The pursuit of my dreamworld requires me to be both.” Cyrus doesn’t fight back his cruel grin as Dawn shudders around him, biting down on her own lip to keep from crying out. “Look at how  _ excited _ you are. Is it because you’re a virgin or because you’re enjoying this?”

“Shut- shut up.” Dawn moans as her hips jerk up off the desk, unavoidable pleasure flooding through her. “You’re needlessly dragging this out.”

Cyrus pulls away from her mouth, the slightest shadow of a smile on his face. “Ah, she finally breaks.” He doesn’t give up on working her over, adding a third finger to violate her. “You have done nothing but get in my way and now I intend to make you pay for it.” He curls his fingers harshly right into her sweet spot, assaulting her clit with his thumb as he forces her closer to the edge. 

Dawn moans as she trembles on Cyrus's fingers, weakly grabbing at his arm. “ _ Stop it! Ah! Cyrus- _

_ don’t-  _ “

“Now cum for me, lovely.” Cyrus rasps in her ear. “Come for your God.”

Dawn cries out as what is likely her first orgasm rips through her violently, thighs clamping around Cyrus’s wrist to keep him still. Cyrus doesn’t let up, fingering her through the aftershocks of her orgasm until her sobs turn to moans. She collapses against his chest, body jerking involuntarily as Cyrus brings her down.

But he’s not done there. He waits until Dawn relaxes, watching her small chest rise and fall evenly, serenely and then slowly starts up again. Her body freezes around him and Cyrus watches her pupils dilate in lust and fear. “Stop- stop it- just get it over with already-“

“You are not in the position to be making requests.” Cyrus lays his face against her soft blue hair, slowing the pace of his fingers to a near crawl. It’s soft against his skin, finer than silk or velvet. The shade was rare amongst Sinnoh’s population, and Cyrus had only a blurry memory of another with the lapis-lazuli hair, but it slips from his fingers. Certainly whoever it was was nothing compared to the captured prey on his desk. He can feel Dawn’s hot breath on his neck as he leans into her, closing his eyes softly as he presses his lips to the crown of her skull. Not a kiss, just to feel the softness against his mouth as he whispers to her. “I want this, little girl. And that’s all that matters.” 

“I can’t, I  _ can’t _ Cyrus, this is wrong, please-“ 

“Wrong answer.” 

It’s muscle memory to find Dawn’s most sensitive spots again, faster and rougher than before. She screams as Cyrus forces another orgasm out of her, kicking her legs out and pushing him away. 

“You’re acting like a child.”

“I  _ am  _ a child!”

He only stops when Dawn is a quivering mess, only capable of gasping out her protests between small hiccuping sobs. Cyrus pulls his fingers out of her dripping core and firmly grasps her chin, forcing them to make eye contact as he slips his wet fingers into her mouth.

He can see his reflection in her icy blue eyes, nearly a mirror of his own. Her gaze is heated with exhaustion and anger as he thrusts his fingers past her wet lips. He keeps his own gaze steady, staring her down until she gives in. Her eyes fall lidded as she slumps against him, thighs quivering. Dawn takes her reprieve gratefully, sucking Cyrus’s fingers clean of her own wetness. “Communion.” She says breathlessly as Cyrus pulls away, a sloppy string of saliva falling down her chin.

Cyrus takes a moment to compose himself, breathing in deeply.  _ Emotions are a flaw. Incomplete, vague, meaningless _ . “Take your clothes off.”

“What, you’re not going to help me undress this time?” Dawn’s voice is shaky but she obeys him, moving her hands to lift herself off the desk and slide her ruined skirt off. 

“You’re eager enough to do it by yourself.” Cyrus raises an eyebrow, keeping an eye on the clothes falling around her ankles. Her heavy boots lay abandoned on the floor and she moves to peel away her thigh high socks but stops when Cyrus places his hands on hers. “You dress like you are looking for this.”

“Oh, there’s the dirty talk. I was wondering if you had it in you.” 

Cyrus just sighs and takes her white panties from where they dangle around her ankle, tucking them into his pocket. “You’re scared. Hiding behind your words. It’s perfectly understandable for one in your position.” 

Dawn gestures at her naked body. “I don’t have much in other ways of defense.” 

Cyrus takes a step back to admire her, raising a hand to his chin. Dawn folds her hands in her lap but makes no other move to cover herself against Cyrus’s judging gaze. Her pale skin is flushed, rosy nipples standing out lewdly on her chest and soft pink cunt drooling on to his desk. 

_ I could keep her.  _ Cyrus thinks again. Gods all throughout history had had their partners, whores and concubines, often taken by force. But the greatest of all gods had wives.

_ A wife _ . Why not? Who says he can’t have his own Hera, Isis, or Frigga? 

“Legend says that the great Zeus tricked Hera into marrying him.” Cyrus remarks casually. “Raped and humiliated her until she agreed to be his bride.”

“Legend also says that they were related, a brother and sister.” Dawn remarks bluntly. “It’s no wonder she refused him.”

Cyrus shakes his head to rid himself of such irrelevant thoughts. “Every god before me was a failure. I intend to learn from their mistakes.”

“Like rape being bad?” Dawn asks in a flat tone.

“No, this is just because I enjoy it.” He finally releases his cock from the confines of his pants and steps between the young girl's legs again, lining himself up with her entrance and holding her thighs apart with a firm grip. His cock is larger than the average mans, and while Cyrus wouldn’t normally take stock in such a menial thing as appearance he feels a sick pride at the sight of her small body against his.

“Are you not going to use protection? How irresponsible.” There’s a quiver of fear in Dawn’s voice and it adds to the unwanted inferno of emotions inside of him.

“I don’t see why I should bother.” He slides the head of his cock against her wet cunt, just barely pressing inside. “I have extended too many pleasantries to you already. You should not have grown accustomed.”

“Well there go your chance of an immaculate conception.” Dawn sighs deeply but keeps a careful eye on his cock as he teases her, her breath catching every time he passes her swollen clit. 

_ She’s not funny. Don’t smile. _

“How are you so calm during all of this? I am actually curious.” Cyrus can’t help but ask.

“I am simply putting my emotions aside. They are cruel, incomplete things.” She taunts him with his own words. “It also helps that I find you unfairly attractive.”

Cyrus stops still. “Excuse me?” 

“Oh  _ please _ .” Dawn rolls her eyes. “You think you attract so many devoted followers because of your stunning charisma?”

“My… my followers are not attracted to me.” Cyrus had never considered himself an ‘attractive’ man. Pride was unnecessary in his life and he could count all previous sexual relationships in one hand, romantic relationships nonexistent. He was not, simply put, a charming man. 

Dawn breathes out laughter. “They see you as a god, Cyrus. Of course they’re going to worship you.” Her voice is soft, a tone Cyrus could misunderstand as  _ loving.  _ Cyrus feels an unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest and he kills it, stopping it in its tracks before it poisons his system.

“Deep breath.” Is all the warning Cyrus gives before forcing himself inside her, not relenting until his hips met hers. Dawn lets all her breath out in a ragged gasp at the sudden pain, going still underneath him. Cyrus’s nostrils flare as he gathers himself, Dawn’s cunt so tight around him it’s almost painful. “Now.” Cyrus gloats. “What were you saying about romance?”

All time for tenderness is gone. Cyrus thrusts into her harshly, sure to bruise her pale skin. Dawn can’t muster up a reply, seething through her teeth. She pushes him away out of instinct, weak little fists punching his chest and legs flailing at his sides. She’s in pain, but Cyrus can’t care. He pulls out of her nearly out all the way and looks down at their joined bodies, thin trails of blood seeping down onto his desk.

“ _ Hur-urts _ …” Dawn chokes out, staring glassy eyes at the ceiling. Her legs hang weakly at Cyrus’s sides.

“You’re doing good.” Cyrus feels his self control slipping, a hard edge rising in his voice. “You will be honored in my new world. A worthy shrine maiden. A sybil.”

Dawn nods fervently at the praise, tears falling from her eyes. “Cyrus- d-dad-“

Cyrus maneuvers her weightless legs up over his shoulders, thrusting deeper inside her with the new angle. “Who am I, Dawn?” 

“My lord!” She cries out in pleasure, arching her back off the desk. “God, _ no! _ ” She grabs the edge of his desk above her head, her free hand clutching at his shirt. “Father-  _ father _ !”

Cyrus grabs her by her hips and uses her, lifting her up and fucking into her like a toy. Her small breasts bounce back and forth with the motion and Cyrus admires her porcelain skin.

“Stop-  _ please  _ this is- this is  _ wrong- _ .” Dawn begs through her tears. “Cyrus, please- you don’t  _ understand- _ “

Cyrus growls under his breath, crude basal instincts taking over his brain. His previous sexual encounters had been lackluster at best, a contest star in his early teens and a few women he took to bed only to advance his career through blackmail or other means. They were boring, unimportant, Dawn outshone all of them, strong and witty and was more gorgeous than them all put together.

_ A goddess _ . A voice at the back of his mind whispers. A cherub, soft with baby fat and innocence. Warped into a perverse plaything by a cruel, unfeeling god. 

He pulls out of her cunt right as he orgasms, spilling his seed over her heaving stomach. Blood trickles from his lip, broken open from his own teeth piercing his flesh to keep him quiet as the pleasure overtook him.

Dawn’s legs fall off his shoulders lifelessly and he takes a step back, adjusting himself back into his pants and admiring his work. Dawn’s inner thighs were red, marked with the imprint of his front zipper and chafes by the rough fabric. Her hips were certainly bruised and cum gathered in the flat pool of her abdomen.

She raises herself on shaking arms, looking down at the mess made of her. Her eyes are averted to the ground, but Cyrus sees the unwanted relief in the set of her jaw. She would not be made a mother yet.

“You are free to go.” Cyrus keeps his voice even, unaffected even as he tucks himself back into his trousers. He takes his usual stance with his hands folded behind his back and watches the soiled girl coldly. “Let this serve as a lesson if you choose to rise against me again.”

Dawn nods sharply and slides off his desk, legs trembling underneath her. She winces in pain and Cyrus allows himself a flutter of satisfaction. 

“Do you have a favorite myth, Cyrus?” She asks quietly. “I do.”

“I do not care to hear it.” Cyrus observes her shaking form as she gathers her discarded clothes, forcing them over the sticky mess on her chest.

Dawn ignores him. “The story of Persephone.”

“Queen of the Underworld.” Cyrus muses. “Wife of the god of the dead. Rather morbid for such a soft thing as you.” 

Dawn scoffs at that. She wrings her hat in her hands, staring off into a corner of his office. “Legend-tellers are split between her history. Raped by her father, or raped by her husband. Or both.” She shakes her head. “It is a sad story.”

Cyrus raises an eyebrow and turns to her, attention caught. “Are you trying to preposition me now?”

“The way I see it-“ Dawn continues, catching his gaze and holding it. “- thy myths were confused over time, split into two, the original story too horrid to be real. The maiden of spring, innocent and pure, pursued and raped by her unknowing father.” A wild grin splits her face, seen only on the blissful and the insane. “Tell me, my lord, do you really not understand yet?”

Cyrus bristles. “I do not find it wise to taunt your tormenter.”

Dawn merely hums at him. “Perhaps you would recognize me with shorter hair? A gown and a sash?”

The half blurry faded memories in his head finally click together, the missing parts filled in with the obvious in front of him. And he does.

He was seventeen, young and stupid with hope for the world. He was leagues ahead of all his classmates academically, but when he would sit alone people would ignore him or simply forget he was there. They talked about things of emotion, so full of that spirit he was still searching for.

Sex was unknown to him, except for the necessary process of procreation. He didn’t understand people pursuing it for pleasure, for ‘fun’. He voiced his concerns to a kinder member of his class and they smiled and told him he had to try it, once he did it would change his whole world.

He got his chance a few weeks later. Joanna was a beauty, vapid but kind. A contest star with her own devoted fanbase. She ran into a closet, hiding from a stalker chasing her down and asked Cyrus to lie for her, and Cyrus did. Because she was pretty and she smiled at him unlike any girl he’d ever met.

They talked for a day or two but ultimately she had to leave Sunnyshore. But not before taking Cyrus to bed, a thank you for being so nice to her, kind and ‘not like other boys’.

It was underwhelming at best. She was floppy and loud, making a performance out of it even though they were alone. Cyrus himself had no knowledge of anything except the basic back and forth, but she wanted to kiss him and touch him and put her mouth on his body. It made him feel sick.

It had only set Cyrus on his destined path more. These human desires were beneath him, base and plain. He would rise above them and create a new world, a better world where things were warped to his ideal vision.

That would have been about fifteen years ago now, wouldn’t it? She had had such pretty blue hair.

Cyrus hands his hands through the same blue hair now, staring down into eyes the same color as his own. “How interesting.” His nerves are alight. It’s not spirit in his veins, but something much darker. “Much like the flawed Arceus itself fights with Giratina, my own child has risen against me. Might I remind you how that story ends, lovely?”

“I knew it was you.” Dawn seethes through her teeth. Thin tear tracks stream down her round, still childish cheeks. “The moment I saw you.”

“How so? Does your mother remember me?” Cyrus feels his own mouth twist into a crude mockery of a grin. “A daughter's intuition?”

“How many other religion obsessed megalomaniacs are there in Sinnoh?” She shudders in disgust as Cyrus leans in towards her hair, burying his nose in it and inhaling softly. His daughter, his progeny, his property. 

“And yet you wait until now to reveal this secret, after the deed is already done.” He breathes into her ear, low and raspy. “Were you afraid I would stop?”

Dawn makes a gagging noise and steps away from him. “You’re horrible! A monster! I  _ despise _ you!”

Cyrus takes her hand in his, placing his lips to the pulse of her wrist. His blood flowed through those blue veins. “I will have you, my little Kore.” 

Dawn grabs his wrist in return. “I am no wandering youth. I will not stray from my path.” She yanks her hand away, suddenly disgusted at him. “And you are no God.”

“Not yet.” Cyrus agrees. “But I will be. And I will come for you.” Cyrus places a hand in her tear stained cheek. Leaning in slowly he presses his lips to the plane of her forehead, delighting in her shiver. “Enjoy your spring. But I sense a chill in the air, lovely.”

Dawn balks at that, finally hurrying away. Her heavy boots stomp down the halls as she covers her dishevelment with her coat, running far far away from her Underworld. 

He watches her go, running out from the front doors of the Galactic building from a window hidden away from view. She would not go to the authorities, would not report his crime. They wouldn’t believe her anyway, Cyrus was a respected philanthropist, if a bit eccentric. He strides across the room, ignoring the mess made of his own actions, and calls for a meeting with his commanders. 

Six months was more than enough time to complete his mission. But Cyrus is no god of old, he is creating his own story now. And in his, the maiden has no escape from her prison.

He still has her panties in his pocket. An offering. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I promised I’d finish this if remakes were announced, but I guess the remaster counts too. 
> 
> Cyrus being Dawn’s father is a headcanon I’ve had since I was a girl child and me starting to ship them didn’t not sway me from it


End file.
